


Last Night

by coldfusion9797



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25049647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfusion9797/pseuds/coldfusion9797
Summary: The night before the fight, Vasquez has one thing on his mind.
Relationships: Joshua Faraday/Vasquez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little bit of fluff for these two because I can't stop thinking about them.

_What's guero mean, anyway? Handsome? Debonair?_

As stupid as it was, Faraday's words kept playing over in Vasquez's mind. Was it just ego talking? Or did the gambler want Vasquez to think those things about him? Because the truth was, Faraday was handsome, and Vasquez didn't hate the white man like he should. 

The thought was persistent enough that it was keeping him up. He knew he should be trying to get some sleep, Bogue's men would be here in the morning, but he couldn't get Faraday out of his head. And if he wasn't going to get any rest, he might as well use this time more productively. Who knew? They could all be dead by this time tomorrow.

Vasquez quietly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Horne who was sleeping in the bed on the other side of the room. He was sharing with the trapper because Robicheaux and Rocks always shared, Chisholm was the only one who trusted the redskin enough to bunk in with him, and Faraday had nabbed the only single room, purely because he could complain the loudest. 

Vasquez slipped silently out of the room, and made his way to Faraday's door. 

Standing in front of the door, Vasquez weighed his options. Either knocking, or not knocking, both were risky. If he knocked, he risked alerting others to what he was doing. If he didn't, he risked spooking Faraday and getting shot. Deciding that a bullet was the lesser of two evils, embarrassment being the other, he pushed the door open and slipped inside. 

The small room was completely dark. The only clue he had that Faraday was in here was the unmistakeable click of a pistol being cocked.

"Guero, it's me," Vasquez whispered.

"Jesus wept, Vasquez!" Faraday hissed, pistol clicking again. "I could have killed you! What the hell are you doing in here?"

That was a very good question. 

Vasquez suddenly felt quite foolish, and blurted out the first thing that entered his mind.

" _Hermoso_. Or _guapo_."

"What?"

"Those are the words that mean handsome."

There was a beat of silence, followed by Faraday's confused reply.

"Good to know..."

"Before," Vasquez reminded. "In the church, you wanted to know."

"And now, in the middle of the night, you felt the need to answer me?"

Vasquez didn't know what he hoped to achieve here. Maybe he had only wanted not to be alone at the end of things. 

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

He heard Faraday sigh, and then some shifting around, and the bedside lamp glowed to life. 

His breath caught. In the soft, yellow light, Faraday was a vision. If this really was his last night on Earth, Vasquez didn't want to let this opportunity pass him by.

"What's the matter with you?" Faraday questioned, sounding a little confused again.

"Handsome. Debonair. Did you want me to call you those things, guero?"

Faraday frowned over at him.

"I wanted you to stop calling me guero. I don't know what it means."

Vasquez's eyes roamed over Faraday's blonde hair and pale skin, landing on his green eyes. He wanted this man very much, and there was no time left to waste.

He crossed the room and seated himself on the bed, ignoring Faraday's indignation at the liberty. Raising his hand to touch the fair whiskers on Faraday's cheek, which he knew showed hints of red in the sun, and then looking into his green eyes again, Vasquez smiled.

"It means only that you are pale. White-skinned and fair-haired."

Faraday swallowed nervously, but didn't pull away from the touch.

"But you mean it to be offensive, don't you?"

"No. I like the way you look. Very much."

"Oh," Faraday said, brow creasing a little as he thought it over. "So you're here now because you think I'm handsome?"

"We could be dead tomorrow, guero. I can't miss this chance."

"So it's not really me you want."

Vasquez shifted closer and lifted his other hand to cup Faraday's face.

"Yes, it is. I hope this is not the only chance we get, but if it is, let us make the most of it. Sí?"

Faraday gazed back at him, all the cockiness and showiness stripped away, something deeper and more sincere replacing them.

"Sí," the white man nodded. Vasquez quickly leaned in and caught the other man's mouth with his own. Faraday was ready for him, and the kiss, like the rest of their relationship, was a battle to get the upper hand. 

Faraday's arms encircled him, crushing him close as their mouths fought against each other. Deciding if there was ever a time to play dirty, this was it, Vasquez reached down and palmed the white man’s crotch, making his intentions clear. 

He felt Faraday's lips curl in a smile against his own.

"And what happens if by some miracle we do make it out of this mess alive?" 

"Well," Vasquez said, lifting his hand to the waist band of Faraday's trousers and popping a button open. "That depends on whether or not your claims as the world's greatest lover are justified."

Faraday laughed and grabbed the hem of Vasquez's shirt.

"Get rid of these clothes and I'll prove it."

Vasquez smiled back. 

"I was hoping you might say that."


End file.
